Building Bridges
by Moogie123
Summary: What happens after the season finale? Little celebration, developing feelings, conflicted hearts. Mostly Derek/Karen.
1. Let Me Be The Star

He knew he made the right choice.

He watched her throughout the song, _her song_, as her voice developed progressively with tremendous richness and emotion. He felt himself being captivated under her hypnotizing stance ; the way her voice broke in a surreal way, the way her hands rose into the air, as if to address the angels, to make them stroke her song with undefinable passion.

A pleasant heartache filled his body, coursed through his veins, making his heart pound as though he were holding his breath. And he was holding his breath, because he didn't want his exhaling to perturb her voice that fills his ears.

"And please, let me be the star!" she finally let go on the final line, and a wave of strong emotions pulsated in every inch of his body, even in some parts he forgot he was able to operate. She bent back, spreading her arms like a fiery bird, and a picture of Marilyn faded in behind her. She is gold, and the illumination behind added to the shine.

He saw her breathing heavily when she finally looked to the audience for a final time. The rest of the cast crawled out onto the stage, sharing the spotlight. In the audience, he saw three proud smiles who worked just as hard as himself to give "Bombshell" a standing ovation.

Karen relished the moment, accepting the applause and the whistles and the generous admirers. All the cast intertwined their hands, and bowed once, twice, thrice. Then, they ran into the wings, only to be called back by the audience a few moments later. They bowed a last time, slowly, and finally disappeared into a fog of light.

Derek watched the audience sit there for a few minutes, and even though he was unable to discern their exact words, he knew they were discussing the pros of the show. How amazing the Marilyn was, how original the decor looked, how well the chorus accompanied the leading lady.

And when Karen finally ran into his arms, he felt so proud of her performance. He embraced her fully, to the core, eyes closed, and she returned the gesture. After a few instants, they both let go, and she mouthed "Thank you," before running off into the dressing rooms.

"Derek," Eileen approached him with a considerable beam gracing her features. "I must apologize. You did an astonishing work on the show."

"It's quite alright. I get those a lot," Derek was back with a cocky smile.

"I was just a little... afraid of the outcome. It's my first show on my own. Karen was quite the shine out there, you know. You worked well with her."

"I'm pleased to hear that, Eileen. Thank you. I just hope you trust me more next time. If we work together again, that is."

"I trust you fully with your decision. You were right. And I do look forward to working with you again. You are dedicated to your shows, which makes you all the more genuine," Eileen turned to leave, and remembered at the last moment, "will you be coming to the little celebration tonight at the hotel bar?"

"Of course. How could I miss out on drinks and women?"

"Oh, Derek..." Eileen chuckled and left to join Nick.

"Karen! That was amazing! Hon' come here!" Jessica ushered Karen into her dressing room seat the moment she caught her standing in the door frame.

"You didn't call me Iowa!" Karen laughed heartily, looking at herself in the mirror, as people crowded over her.

"You earned your name for me, now," Jessica hugged her from behind, smiling warmly.

"Gosh, that was just – wow!" Bobby kneeled beside Karen, gazing at her with bright eyes.

"Thank you, all of you," she said, taking off her wig a little flustered.

"No, no, don't remove it yet!" Dennis stopped her. "We have this tradition. You have to keep it on until the day is over. It brings you luck until the whole thing is over."

"Really? I'm too hot in this. It's like I'm cooking my head in an oven."

"Gonna have to endure it, hon," Jessica teased her.

"Where's Ivy?" Karen enquired suddenly.

No one dared reply.

"What happened? Is it bad?" Karen turned away from mirror, a little alarmed.

"She, uh... She overdosed herself on the steroids," Bobby revealed, and clenched his jaw. "She's at the hospital now."

"Shit, that's horrible! Is it because of the role?" Karen asked.

"Yeah. Her life went tumbling down. She was so sure she was gonna get it. Not her fault. We all want the best. Plus, apparently Derek and her are over..."

"I don't know what to say..."

"We don't want to ruin your great performance. Let's get going to the bar. Chop chop!"

They gathered themselves and headed to the bar.

Karen was perturbed with Ivy's state. She needed to talk to Derek about this.


	2. Rupert, Bring Me Another

Disclaimer : nothing's mine. Although Derek... I wish he was.

Author's note : thank you for taking time to review.

Thank you also for adding it to your **favorites**/**story alert**!

I need **feedback** to see if I'm heading for direction. So please, tell me if the story needs improving!

* * *

CHAPTER 2

They exited the fancy elevator into the dim bar. Many lights coloured the room, beating dancers' in the faces, and lonely business men's whisky glasses. It smelt like cheap perfume, sweat, and strangely, new clothes.  
Karen ignored the drunken, appraising gazes that were cast her way by young men that tried to work themselves onto her. Never had this happened to her before. Jessica, Bobby and Dennis followed her clumsy steps whilst others were already scattered all over the floor.

"It's full, more than I expected! I thought Boston was gonna be small," Bobby yelled over the blaring music and voices that created a cacophony that was a little more harmonious than the ones he had to endure in New York.

"What, did you think it was gonna be the middle o' nowhere?" Jessica giggled. She was already aiming the barman with her darting eyes.

"You've never been to Boston?" Karen asked incredulously.

"Never. First time!"

"And our impressions are climbing the ladder," Jessica added, assessing a group of guys in the far right. "I'm gonna join them," she mumbled as she left swiftly.

"Iowa, it's just you and me," Bobby declared.

"Wha – ? Dennis was just – "

"Already gone. We work hastily. Oh, it's the Dark Lord," Bobby whispered in an exaggerated tone. Karen laughed mockingly.

"You go, I need to talk to him."

"Ohh! I sense a connection!"

Before Karen could even begin to think about nudging him, he was gone.

"Derek," she approached her director, and sat on the only seat close to him. He was eyeing a blonde across the room.

"Karen," he finally turned to her, shoulders slumped, drink in hand, predator smile dancing on the corners of his lips.

"Looks like you're gonna have company tonight."  
"Nah. Not in the mood," he looked back at the girl, heaving his whisky to his lips and downing it with one gulp. "Rupert, send me one more."

Karen could see that Derek was heavily drunk. "Odd name for a bartender," Karen whispered to him, and ordered a White Russian.

"What do you expect them to be named?"

"I don't know... Sam? Jerry? Definitely not Rupert," Karen clarified, and sipped a little of her drink.

"We're in a free country, aren't we?" Derek smiled, and for once she could see dark circles hanging heavily under his eyes. She also noticed his wrinkles, and although they were modest and charming during daylight, they seemed to be larger and less pleasant at night. Or more so when he was intoxicated.

"You're drunk," she tossed the words his way, and let him interpret the intonation.

He smiled gruffly, and downed another whisky. "You were great today," he softened momentarily. "And I'm not really drunk."

"Thank you. Tell me... Why did you choose me? I mean, Ivy knew the part better. And she has been in the business longer than I. And you slept with her," Karen said, instantly regretting the last remark.

"Ivy did know the part better. And she has been in the business for ten years. And I did sleep with her, although that last thing didn't affect my judgement. That's why I'm so successful – personal life and work is never to be mixed. It seems obvious of course, but some people sadly can't understand that," his accent seemed a little more distinct. "Anyway... I chose you because – remember when I told you that I 'see' you as Marilyn? Well, it's true. That's it. My gut instinct. As easy as that," he smiled again, as much as Karen stayed stoic.

She seemed to digest his words for a few moments. "Thank you," she smiled tightly, and he pursed his lips in return. "She's in the hospital now."

"She is. I can't say I'm not sorry. She was great. She wanted, she _needed_ the role so much. I can't say she didn't fight for it, because that's all she did."

"Do you think she's gonna be alright?" Karen sounded a little childish and upset.

"You're worrying about her? I thought you were the greatest of rivals."

"The only person who can defeat her is me. I won't let her lose the battle to herself, that wouldn't be fun."

"Karen, I never thought you'd say that," he cocked his head to the side, smiling devilishly.

Their faces were mere inches apart as a strong smell of alcohol hung stiffly between them.

"Rupert, bring me another," she glanced the bartender's way.

"They made you follow tradition," Derek noticed her wig.

"They sure did. I'm boiling my head in that thing," Karen complained, and with a swift movement, unleashed her dark rivulets of hair from the hairpiece. Derek waited with some sort of fascination. The she took her drink, downed it in a hurried swig, and stood up.

"I gotta go, Derek. Big day tomorrow. I'm tired after the whole performance."

"I'm going to stay."

"Alright. Good night," she bid farewell and made her steady way to the elevator and back to her room, unaware her hips' sway was being watched very closely.


	3. Twenty Fourth Floor

CHAPTER 3

As Karen ascended the stairs leading to last night's stage, a gentle smile of reminiscence graced her cheeks. She drew out her bottom lip in proud recognition.

A few flashes of last night's memorable feeling swept through her. She remembered that the distinguished, bewildered looks the dazed audience conveyed her way were one of the most delightful moments of the night, although she couldn't pay much to attention to them. She needed to stay focused, in the game. With a little support from every member of the production, she was able to produce something she had read in the reviews was qualified as "quite the wonder".

As much as she wanted to relive the entire overwhelming sensation of her first, real musical performance, she needed to rehearse before the show's second presentation.

"Alright, I want everyone ready in ten! Ivy has been replaced with Amanda here. She will pick up shortly, don't worry," Derek's stern voice majorly shook her out of her reverie, and she hurried into the dressing rooms.

"I understand all of you probably have hangovers right now, but you need to snap back into it. Why did we even let you drink yesterday?" he asked the question mostly to himself.

Karen dressed for her first number within five minutes, and was summoned to the stage by Derek.

"Karen, I need you to continue the way you did last night, okay?" he spoke softly but holding a firm meaning to his words. She didn't discern any uneasiness in his demeanour. It was Derek Wills before her, always ready for the fight, with a continuous hint of a frown forming between his salt-pepper eyebrows. Suddenly, she wanted to throw herself into the two fluffy cushions that were planted in the depth of his grey eyes.

"We're a total of six shows in Boston and Chicago, then back in New York with a few days of recovery. Then we're up for the longest run, on Broadway. God knows how long that's going to be. So you have to keep strong. I know you can do this," he pledged, all the while teasing her elbow with the gentle stroke of his thumb.

She nodded gravely, and ran into the wings. He took a seat in the audience along with Tom, Julia, and Eileen.

They rehearsed "Bombshell" two times. The ensemble with Michael and Karen seemed to grow a little tired by the hour.

"Okay people, we're done for the day. Remember, be here an hour and a half early for tonight!" Derek announced as people began to disperse into the wings.

Karen entered the dressing rooms in high spirits. "How's Ivy?"

"No one knows. For now, her mom's with her. I told her to contact me with any info. Best case scenario, it's minor. Worst case scenario... the overdose can cause heart rhythm disturbances," Bobby answered.

"Oh... It really hit her in the gut," Karen slumped down into a chair, thinking.

"We all know Ivy. She can be a totally cool chick, but when it comes to showing the Drama Queen side... it bites her in the ass."

"Yeah. Well, anyhow, I hope she gets better. We need her back. Amanda is a total newbie," Jessica whispered, looking around her for the new ensemble member.

"I thought she was okay," Karen countered.

"Iowa... You're too concentrated in your affairs. We're the ones who see it all," Dennis chuckled, and they prepared to leave before the night.

Once on the street, they parted ways. Most of the ensemble went out for lunch, while the minority headed to rest at the hotel.

Karen checked her phone for the time. She still had roughly four hours to spare. She noticed a new message and a missed phone call – Dev. Although she had discarded his number, he apparently didn't do the same.

'I just wanted to say you were great and that I'm terribly sorry about what happened,' read the text she decided to check out. With a disgust smirk and an unconvinced snort she deleted it.

"Karen, I thought you'd be gone," a voice called beside her ear.

She spun around with wide eyes. "Derek – Mr. Wills. No, I was just checking my phone."

Derek smiled in a sizzling way that made her insides churn and her heart melt on top of them. "Would you like me to escort you to the hotel, Ms. Cartwright?"

Linking her arm in his snug one, they left casually for the hotel.

"We're all on the same floor?" asked Derek when they finally entered the hotel elevator.

"Twenty-fourth."

"Yes."

They both reached for the button, and their fingers elegantly grazed which created a spark that aroused a passionate fire. Both nearly jumped at the contact, and an awkward silence settled between them. The button still wasn't pushed, and neither wanted to go for it again. Finally, Karen, the closest to it, rapidly pressed it.

The static tension made them endure the talk of the dead under their graves. Neither dared break it.

The ride was an incredibly long one as they both dreaded the ascent.

When the elevator came to a halt and the doors swung open, Karen was the first one to jump on the opportunity to escape the incident's consequences. She took on a quick jog, and on her way out, Derek was able to catch a whiff of her enticing perfume with flared nostrils. The moment she exited, he closed his eyes dramatically and followed suit.

Unfortunately, Lady Luck didn't grant them a chance at freedom. Their rooms were both in the same direction, his being a few doors down. Karen decide to be courteous at the last moment. "See you in a few,"she mumbled loud enough for him to hear.

"Yes, see you," Derek didn't bother to turn around for his response, out of fear of wanting a proper goodbye by seeing her angelic face, defined by a cascade of short dark waves.

Karen entered her thankfully empty room with her heartbeat pounding hotly in her ears. She understood that her reaction to the incident was pathetic and completely exaggerated. She was worse that Ivy, she realized. Although Ivy would have probably jumped his bones right then and there. Now she was thinking out of her usual ways. _God_, that man was killing her. She hoped it wouldn't perturb her performance.

* * *

**Author's Note : **I'm not sure if this chapter was what you were all looking forward to.

Thank you for reviewing!


	4. A Broken Chord, An Arpeggio

CHAPTER 4

Karen felt a small pang in her chest before stepping out on stage for her first song. It was the usual tinge of nervousness, but it turned out to have a good effect on her performance.

Back even when she was little and took piano lessons, her teacher used to make recitals every six months to show how well the children progressed. Mrs. Fillips was a woman of great heart who took extra precautions to make sure every student was on their maximal level of effort. Karen, despite having turned to the instrument later than the other kids, caught up fast thanks to her incredible hearing. Although whenever she would step out onto the stage and sit before the piano, she would feel a slight dizziness that would eventually begin to guide her fingers and mind into full devotion to the piece.

She still felt and remembered it to this day when performing "Bombshell", but it was reduced into a simple pang and rushed heartbeat.

* * *

"Ready? You're up in five," the costume lady, Mandy, zipped up her golden dress for the last number. The show moved at an incredible pace, from first to last lyric, and Karen didn't even have time to realize that it was over the second it began. Within the blink of an eye, the audience arrived and departed, and so did her adrenaline.

Karen breathed out sharply, shaking off the stress with her shoulders.

Joe DiMaggio exited the scene, and she strolled onto the stage with an aura of calm burning her skin.

She was greeted with the silence of a focused audience. The room had many more filled red leather seats than previously.

Karen sang the ultimate song with the same excitement and enthusiasm as last night. The rise and fall of her chest was driven with the sudden image of the star she was impersonating herself that invaded her mind.

Then, peculiarly, the pang in her chest returned. Her heartbeat quickened. She nearly slipped off her feet.

Let me be your – and "star" was gone. It was sort of a forgotten word as she pierced everyone's ears by catching the note too late. As would be missed a morning train which is sighed after the moment it leaves without the last clumsy passenger.

Karen let it slip, and caught the note the second after. She pretended it was meant to be this way to let the ears suffer a little longer before coming to the original tonic of the song. But everyone noticed. Everyone who had a good hearing and was concentrated on listening. And she knew in the pit of her stomach that they did.

As much as she wanted to, though, Karen didn't let it overwhelm her. She understood how much of an impact it had on the performance. It was the last song. The second most mesmerizing scene of the show. It would mean that she was disrespecting the reviews.

Still, she finished it. She had to give it an end. Karen leaned back towards the _real_ star that was once again projected behind her.

The audience applauded without a second thought. Her smile gleamed, but the gleam didn't shine to the back of the room.

The ensemble joined her again. They bowed once, twice, thrice. The ran into the wings only to be called back with copious amounts of clapping. Karen felt alive inside.

* * *

"I missed the goddamn 'star'. And everyone heard it," Karen fell onto her chair with frustration.

"My ears didn't fall off, so I guess you're good," Bobby laughed.

"It's not funny. I'm letting everyone down. I'm letting Derek down."

"Karen, it's your first time. If you promise to never let go like that again, Broadway will forgive you," Dennis assured her.

"Don't let it break you. Don't dramatize it. You'll train your voice to have it belt out every single night with perfection. It takes time."

"Guys, it's Ivy!" Bobby interjected.

All faces turned to stare at him. "So?"

"Her mother just texted me..." he trailed off, slowly lifting his eyes to meet their anticipating ones. "She's not going to be out anytime soon. It's..."

"... worst case scenario," Jessica completed for him when he trailed off again.

The air rapidly filled with heavy, choking uneasiness.

"I have to talk to her," Karen suggested almost immediately. "I need to explain to her that it wasn't her fault. Otherwise she'll do it again because she wouldn't have _understood_."

"Karen?" a strong voice burst into the room. Karen turned to see Derek. "Your parents are here to see you."

The young woman stood up and almost ran past her director. He caught a whiff of yesterday's perfume that lingered on her again.

"Mom! Dad! What are you doing here?" Karen proceeded to hug her parents.

"We came to see you. Dev called to inform us that our girl would be playing Marilyn. We couldn't miss out on such a big event," her mother explained with incredible joy marking her words.

"Karen, honey, you were wonderful," her father added.

"Thank you! Thank you for coming. It means so much," Karen hugged her parents again. None notice Derek standing quietly by their side with crossed arms, smiling proudly.

"Are you staying for the night?"

"No, we have a plane to catch in two hours. We just came to watch."

"Oh, that's too bad. I wish we could have had dinner. I'll let you go now. I promise to come over as soon as I find the time!"

They hugged for a third time. "See you, sweetie. Good luck!"

The parents took off with Karen's eyes following them in their wake.

"Nice folks," Derek finally uttered, much to Karen's surprise.

"Derek! I didn't see you," she spun to face him, feeling the usual rush as her blood boiled.

"That last note. Ouch," he half-smirked, leaving a trace of a smile.

"Yeah, I know. I'm really sorry. I – I don't know what happened," Karen shook her head in frustration, letting a nervous laugh escape her lips.

"Oh, I know," Derek let the half-smirk curl his mouth again.

"Wha – ?"

"You were overwhelmed with her, weren't you? You _saw_ her, she was in your head, wasn't she? Invading every common sense you presumed you had. Is that it?"

Karen was at a loss for words, jaw hanging slightly. Had he really read her thoughts? Or had she said them aloud?

"I know the feeling. Trust me, it'll pass," he tapped her shoulder lightly in what seemed an emphasis to his words, enough to make her dizzy.

As she tried to scrutinize him for a few seconds, he vanished. Kind of without her realizing it.

* * *

When morning came, they had the day off. No shows that night.

Karen decided to sleep in a little. A rest after the stressful times, and last-minute finish-ups before the first night. It was time for a little soul searching.

After ordering breakfast in bed, Karen dressed, exited the hotel, and headed to the nearest flower shop. There she properly met the shopkeeper, an old woman who, she later understood, had the heart of an angel. Her name was Angela, ironically enough.

Karen entered the shop, and looked around for the perfect bouquet. Tulips seemed terribly inappropriate. Roses even more so. That's when Karen saw lilies, and they struck her for some reason.

"I'll take these," she smiled warmly at Angela. It pained her terribly to see the old woman reach for the change.

"Are they for your darling?"

"No, just for a friend."

"Ah," the shopkeeper spoke slowly with a worn out voice. Karen wondered for a moment how much this woman lived through. Her tone seemed to carry rich knowledge. "A girl came here the other day. Chose the same fresh bouquet. Reminded me of you. You sure you didn't already come by?"

"No, ma'am. It's my first time here."

"Ah, alright. Well, come by more often."

"I definitely will," Karen picked up the flowers, and walked outside to catch a taxi.

* * *

"Right on the second floor," the nurse showed her to the second floor of the hospital.

Searching for room 134, Karen finally spotted it at the end of the hallway, adjacent with a big window that gave a view on the cloudy sky that scattered over Boston.

"Ivy?" Karen whispered.  
The young blonde stirred, and opened her bright eyes after a few moments.

"Karen?"

The meeting resembled to those of friendly rivals who hadn't seen each other in years.

"Why?" Ivy mumbled, shaking her head.

"I had to explain."

A mutual feeling of guilt that hung in the air.

"And I needed explanations," Karen added, tentatively giving power to her voice so that their talk wouldn't be reduced to small murmur.

"Explanations for what?"

"Your arrogance, I suppose."

Rain drizzled on the window.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way, I really didn't," the brunette corrected herself.

"It's okay. I get it. You're angry. I cut the last string of hope in your relationship. But you have to be thankful. It made you realize just how much it was useless to keep holding on."

Karen gulped. "Why does everyone always have to help me?"

"Because you have the face that demands it."

Lightning beyond the skyscrapers.

"I didn't have to find out like that."

"Neither did I." Ivy. With barely hushed a voice.

"It wasn't my fault."

"_It never is_."

Crisp. The air is crisp.

"Somehow, deep down, I wanted you to play her. Because now I'm _scared,_" Karen approached her.

"You saw her, didn't you? In your mind?"

The rain is louder on the glass.

"How would you know?"

"I've felt it. The petrifying giddiness," Ivy looks her in the eyes._ Really_ looks her in the eyes. As though it really was a window to the soul.

For a few seconds, no rain.

"It's – it's for you," Karen gives her the flowers, suddenly realizing it's the first bouquet and doesn't have anywhere to put it.

"Keep them. As a gift, from me. Congratulations. You took everyone's hearts. _You won_."

"I didn't _win_, Ivy. I _lost_. Nobody won. We're both on the edge. I'm just further away from it than you."

"Miss Lynn? We have lunch for you."

The nurse advanced from the door to the patient with one of those plastic smiles. Sometimes, the smile is warm. But today, the weather influenced it. It isn't a pleasant one. It's mild and plastic. Like the cup with the soup.

* * *

Karen left the hospital with hints of tears glistening in the depth of her heart, pushed back by the rain that streamed down on her pitifully.

She never found out why.

Heading straight for the theatre was her only salvage point. The day off didn't seem to start the way she planned it out to be.

Karen realized then just how much she had been naive. Believing Ivy would pardon her? How childish of her to think so!

It's an adult's life. People lie, people mock, people cry.

Especially in the business she joined.

* * *

Karen didn't even realize that she was opening the back door to the theatre, wiping away pretend tears from dry cheeks.

Suddenly, she felt the need to remember the feeling of that first night when everything was right. There's always one night when the world gives you happiness and peace.

The lights. The people. The stage. The music. Derek. _Dev_, _Ivy_.

And then her world went tumbling down the moment she thought about it. It always seemed to go back to _cheating_, _lies_.

Karen didn't want to feel it – the raw need to forget about it. She simply wanted to let it slip, unnoticed like gallons of water spent everyday. Like rain on an umbrella on a rainy day. Like dirty fingers during a child's play.

Sometimes you just _know_ facts. As though they were plainly laid out before you. Karen wished she did.

* * *

They say determination drives you to places. They say it makes you want more. They say it makes you achieve goals that seem impossible at the start.

Karen had goals – make it to Broadway with a major role, get married, have children, live a happy life. That last statement didn't seem to go well for most people, as she had seen it to say the least.

* * *

She pulled open the doors to the grand room where she had previously performed. They were strangely open.

Music hit her ears. At first, she didn't want to recognize anything but her inner turmoil, so she didn't want to hear the melody.

Then it hit her.

_Clair de lune._

_Claude Debussy._

She looked up.

Derek Wills sat towering over a grand royal on the stage, and as she gradually approached it, she could see him caressing the keyboard with a tenderness she had never experienced from him before.

He seemed to transmit across the room the most obscure of secrets, the most horrifying of fears, the most sparkling of dreams, and the most luscious of memories of his wrenched soul through the flexible touch of his slender fingertips.

_That's what guided him just as nervousness guided her._

She had seen beauty countless times before. But this was different. She saw the true, unveiled beauty that _made_ Derek Wills. And he didn't have to say a word. Simply relinquish what his heart was unable to offer by itself.

Unconsciously, she took a seat in the audience, captivated by the astounding melody that seeped from the piano.

At that moment, she wished hers weren't the only pairs of ears that were listening.

The piano moaned an extraordinary harmony under his compassionate command. She shivered.

A broken chord, and arpeggio. She recognized them. She could feel them as plain as it sounded.

He developed into the piece with tremendous understanding. It seemed as though he were committing to it the years of experience he lived, the years of sore passion and distress, the weight that wouldn't grow off his shoulders.

Then she felt a _release_. As though he finally let go. A rest, a pause. A moment of silence breathed in her heart as she listened to it. Exonerating clarity intensified itself in his play, and he pushed himself forward, to the side, and back. The anchor rusted off and blessed him the right to drown in the endless waters. He let the flow of the current take him to the treasure in the middle of the sea. He... _melted_.

She felt a _diminuendo_ toward that signified the end as he guided the notes on a feathery ascent to the last note. A light trace of a fire followed in his wake.

_A yearning reminiscence_.

He silently crowned the melody, remaining in his seat, slightly bowing his head towards the keys before him, hands resting on the edge of bench.

_A prayer?_

Karen felt herself stand up and applaud.

When he jerked to meet her eye, she advanced towards him, down the stairs.

She reached the end of the stage, and climbed up to stand next to him.

Floating on a cloud.

"That was marvellous," she told him, even if it was so much more.

He stayed mute, staring at her with eyes that reflected her own amazement.

"I didn't know you played," she added in a shaky voice.

He reached up to brush away a few tears that ran down her already moist cheeks.

"Oh, I'm crying," she laughed quietly.

He simply smiled.

"Who else knows?"

Somehow, she understood no one knew about his true grace. Later on, she thinks she saw it in his eyes.

_Don't tell anyone who I really am_, they told her quietly.

Sometimes words hold no true meaning to what really lies underneath the surface.

* * *

**A/N :** I am actually quite happy with this chapter.

A great thank you to **Carla **for the Ivy/Karen exchange idea!  
Let me explain the D/K exchange : I want them, _need_ them to discover about each other. And they will even more.  
I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Please leave a review :)


	5. Vanishing Star

CHAPTER 5

"Guys, have you heard?" Bobby came rushing into the dressing rooms.

"What?"

"Ivy's out of the hospital. She's coming back. No more Elena."  
"Oh thank God, she needed that little shove off the show," Jessica rolled her eyes.

"You guys are so mean," Karen laughed as she put on her wig, marvelling at the Marilyn that gradually materialized in the depth of the glass before her.

"No, not mean. _Realistic_," Jessica corrected.

"We're up in ten," a voice suddenly peaked in. A familiar curved figure pushed it aside, and strolled in with a viciously stern look that spread across the room.

"Ivy, glad you're alright," Bobby awkwardly joined her side, breaking the silence that settled in.

"I'm sure you are, Bobby," the woman replied, and smiled hypocritically. "Karen, congratulations. I never got to tell you that properly," She looked genuine for a second. Then she squinted her eyes at Karen with ferocity, and the air was gone. "Jess! I missed you, girl!" She took the ensemble member into a tight embrace.

"You, too, Ivy."

"Sam!" the blonde turned to her friend, giving him a squeeze as well.

"We really should get going," Dennis interjected, heading for the door. All followed suit, leaving Ivy to get ready for her role.

"Thank you, even though I know you didn't mean it," Karen's austere words lingered along the edges of the door frame, pausing Ivy in her make-up for a rare instant.

As the igniting star departed for her journey, the other prepared to vanish in her dimming wake.

* * *

"Karen, a little more enthusiasm, please," Derek interrupted the song, sending a usual flame of alarming chills down her spine. "You do love him, remember that."

They restarted song. She sang. He listened. She sang it again, he listened once more. Her voice broke graciously on some lyrics.

It was _perfect_. Doll-perfect, arranged marriage perfect, _surface_ perfect. Derek Wills did not like such dishonest perfection.

"Stop the music. Karen, please come over here," he tugged her aside into the wings where no one could see them.

Her eyes held guilt even though she didn't know what she was appointed for.

"Karen, I don't want to know what's wrong, though I know you're unhappy for some reason."

She suddenly remembered him yesterday. The way the dignity and elegance seemed to flow so freely through the softness of his touch; because he was _free_. And now, as she was standing before him, his tyrannical temper keeping a stoic furrow across his features, she unexpectedly realized the love she saw in his eyes last night. As though his own memories made him sensible, as though he was a completely different person when he let his mind wander to the good times.

"Karen?"

"I have to be _free_. Because I love him. We need each other," she gave a small smile before taking her spot with Michael on the bench. 'Mr and Mrs Smith,' they were going to give the audience.

* * *

The night approached with aggravating speed.

When it arrived, it was greeted with a spectacular "Bombshell" performance. Every participant in the production was intoxicated with the outcome of yet a third night. Half of the shows in Boston were complete with great reviews. Then they'd be going for Chicago with six dazzling nights in store. New York would be the final destination, and if they were to be successful there, they would travel through

other major cities of the US.

_But that is still ahead of us_, Derek thought, propped up on an elbow on his hotel bed, looking out into the dark city. He had thought about joining a lady in the bar, but something was pulling him to the white sheets beneath him.

A knock rattled on the door. Maybe he should have left for that drink.

He walked to the door, opened it, and his eyebrows jumped at the sight. "Ivy."  
"Derek. Can we talk?"

"Sure, come in." He had a bad feeling churning in his stomach about what the topic might be.

"I miss you," she whispered, and he discerned an air of Marilyn in her desperate tone as she approached him leisurely.

"It's great to hear, Ivy. I think we've been over this."

"We have. But don't you miss me?"

"Ivy..."

"I love it when you purr my name," she slid her arms down his chest, and around his waist, all the while staring at his lips. Then she lifted her eyes to meet his confused ones, and all he saw was pure lust.

She was faking, of course he knew that. It wasn't the first time he had been through such bribery. But he still felt drawn to her, or at least down there he did. Maybe one more night?

"Ivy, it's over. I don't know why you're still after me. I really don't," he said sternly, pushing her away.

"Alright, Derek. I get the message. _It's over_. I just thought we could spend some time together, as 'consenting adults', but apparently the feeling isn't mutual." The blonde stormed out, slamming the door behind her. Derek thought the walls would shatter.

Perhaps that drink would do some good?

* * *

The next day, they had another show. The nights went in pairs, with a day off between them, so it wouldn't become too tiring for everyone.

"Ivy isn't here for rehearsal yet. Did she drug herself again?" Jessica snickered.

"And I thought you were friends with her," Karen protested with a serious air.

"_Were_. You made the clarification on your own. And I heard she bitched on Derek. _I literally heard!_" Bobby laughed hard, clutching his stomach in his seat.

"Really? Oh my God, spread the gossip!" Jessica nearly jumped on him from excitement.

Once he collected himself, he retold the conversation he had overheard. More so on purpose.

"Gosh, I never thought she was the type to go back on a digested sausage. Wow. That sounded so disgusting," Jessica said, and everyone fell over their laughter. Only because it was so true.

"Hey guys, what's so funny?" Ivy entered the room with a glossy smile.

"Nah, nothing really. Bobby just tripped over the chair," Dennis explained, still unable to regain his breath properly. The excuse seemed authentic, since Bobby was in fact on the floor, next his chair.

Ivy didn't say a word, for smart people don't speak when they know they have been despised for their foolish actions. She simply set her stuff on her seat, and calmly walked out.

"What got into her?"

* * *

**A/N :** I really needed to end it there even though I have more written. Otherwise the story wouldn't make much sense.

_I'm really sorry for my long update! It's been nearly a week since I gave you the last chapter. Shame on me..._

__This chapter doesn't really bring much to the story, but it gives Ivy's comeback which is important for future chapters.

Chapters 6 is also going to be up tonight!


	6. Rise Above It All

CHAPTER 6

_Previously..._

"_What got into her?"_

* * *

Ivy stepped out of the dressing rooms, feeling chagrin blow through her every nerve.

She did swallow those pills, she did. But when her life went crumbling down the hill at rocket speed, no one was there to pick up the pieces and hand them back to her all glued together to start over again.

She did think it was far-fetched of her to rely on someone to heal her insincere heart, of course she did. However feeble, some common sense was still left in her after betrayal swept her wonderful life.

She simply wanted to have a _real_ friend, a person to share the weight on her shoulders with, and spring into the exciting adventures of life with.

For a time, she thought Derek and her had _something_. Something... _special_. Perhaps she stayed up all those nights, dreaming eyes open, that she had swarmed into his heart and used a key to open it to others as well.

"_I love you,"_ he told her. She remembered. She believed it meant something for a long time. That he was actually able to provide humane reactions to rare emotions like _love_.

But then he had to go and sleep with Rebecca Duvall. The person she watched being loathed by Derek's foolish mouth, and then suddenly under his sexually driven thumb. Maybe a little much to say. Although Ivy didn't think she was really far off the track with that statement.

"_She needs my attention," _he told her. She remembered. The way it dried her throat and eyes. They were both little pawns in his game of chess against his own self.

And then there was Karen Cartwright who _also_ seemed to gain his undivided attention. She didn't blame him – considering the way he plays, she guessed the girl probably refused to be his white queen advancing in all directions under the subtle influence of his seducing manipulations, swallowing every threat in the way.

The show goes no where without the director, and when he stood up for Karen, it was a bullet to the chest for Ivy. Dry and bloody, the shot, silenced by Karen's beautiful, luscious lips lulling him to sleep, she imagined.

"_I see her,"_ he told her. She remembered. The flurry it gave inside her once realization dawned on her. A small gulp. Dry again. _Everything is so dry with him._

So that's why things were going to change now.

* * *

Amanda entered the dressing rooms with hushed fury. "Karen, I need you now!"

As the brunette left her friends, she saw a choleric Derek at Amanda's heels, inhaling like a beast through flared nostrils with a hot fire Karen had never witnessed from him before. She though his anger would make him burst into a million little flames that would light the world.

He took her forcefully by the arm, and dragged her to the costume room, Amanda following them at a fast pace.

"Derek, you're hurting me," Karen protested, but didn't dare say it too loud out of fear that his state would worsen.

He simply ignored her pleading.

Once they came to the room, he nearly shoved her in there. As though what they found in there was entirely her fault.

Karen gasped at the view before her.

Torn dresses sprawled over the cool cement floor of the room.

Shredded collars trailing after the rivulets of colours already torn on the floor.

Broken heels scattered all over the cold place.

Rests of shoes decaying over the gory scenery.

Beaming shades of paint all across the damaged clothing, glaring at her nastily.

_It reminded her of the blood that is shed in rivers from a broken heart._

Karen scurried away from the glorious murder of her brightest dream.

* * *

"Karen... Karen! Karen..?"

Karen heard a female voice. She didn't want to be found. This time, she accepted Derek's advice, and took precautions with the breadcrumbs. Maybe it was the perfume?

"Karen... I'm so sorry..." It was Amanda. "Here, I brought napkins."

Karen took them voluntarily, wiping away tear stains.

"It's going to be alright, you know. We'll figure something out. We'll order new ones."

"You'll never get them in time for tonight," Karen sigh and her breath tripled in her throat.

"We will. Wait and see. Especially since we've got Derek on the team. He'll never let you go out there naked, except maybe for his own pleasure."

They chuckled. Karen pictured the scene. She laughed even more.

"Anyway, we're all waiting for you to practice. We can't stop now, not when we've already begun."

"Yeah, of course. I'm coming. Just give me a minute."

Amanda nodded, and left silently.

* * *

Karen thought for what seemed to be a long time, despite it being only a couple of minutes.

She never imagined she could be hated. She wasn't the most popular girl in school, but boys weren't denying her either, even when she didn't crave the attention.

Now she was in the adult world, where every little issue became a hundred times more important, and under scrutinizing criticism of the general crowd.

A while ago, she would have thought she was going along fine with her stage teammates. However, after this incident, her whole world came crashing down on her with a completely incurable headache that pounded not only in her head.

Finally, she decided she couldn't give up just because of someone's resentment towards her. It would hurt her terribly, she knew, but as her mother always taught her, _Never give up_.

The images of the room flashed back in her mind.

_Torn. Broken. Painted._

Somehow, they reminded her of someone.

* * *

They rehearsed the show with Karen doing every dance move and every song in yoga pants. It didn't affect her performance in any plausible way.

Derek was sure it might add to the authenticity of the heartbreak. Marilyn was heartbroken all her life long, although he didn't wish such melancholy for his young star. She was a fine creature that seemed too fragile to be touched in every angle someone could think of. Although she did always muster the strength to prove a stance. Perhaps it was that pureness that initially drew him to her.

"Karen, relax. We'll deal with it just fine," Derek tried reassuring her after they had finished rehearsing. She wouldn't even look into his eyes.

"Karen, listen to me," he cupped her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. "It's going to be fine. We're ordering the costumes in, and they're being urgently tailored to fit your size. Don't worry a bit," he added, smiling warmly, hoping to affirm himself.

She nodded with a faint tenderness that made her look all the more delicate. "I know they'll be here. You've convinced me about that. But... I just don't understand – who did I – did I do something – _why_?" Karen begged, searching his eyes for answers.

Unfortunately, Derek couldn't provide them. He regretted that so much. He wanted to soothe her vulnerability with every ray of hope he had left in him.

* * *

The costumes came. She fit them perfectly, except for one that was one notch too big. But Amanda had time to fix that.

"You're all good, _Marilyn_," she zipped her up for the last song. The dress absorbed Karen's perfume the second she slipped into it.

Derek came in behind her, like for the opening night. "You'll be great. You've been so brave," he whispered into his ear again.

Karen couldn't help tensing under his touch as his hot breath that trickled off his tongue tickled her reddening ear.

Once Joe DiMaggio was off the scene, he gave her a quick smile, and it was her turn to own the stage.

Karen stepped in, and delivered the melody with a tremendous gracefulness that held great hints of courage.

_They thought they could dispose of me  
They tried to make me small  
I suffered each indignity  
But now rise above it all._

She thought of how the lyrics followed her path. She hoped they would until the end.

* * *

She exited the elevator straight into the bar as she saw it for the first time after their first night there. The lights, the crowd, the music, all so jumbled in her mind that she needed to squint. Her mind was raging, and she began to feel nauseous after a mere moment spent in the bar. A headache overwhelmed her, and she stopped in her steps just to rub her temples. Of course, no guy on the dance floor had any sense of chivalry or elegance, so she was pushed around a few times. Now was the time for the goddamn drink.

As she shakily approached the stool she was aiming with her still half-shut eyes, she heard her name being called out. Once. Twice. Another final near-yell was hollered her way before she finally looked up to the source.

It was Derek. _Who else?_ Karen thought, frustrated. She didn't wish to encounter anyone she knew. An _escape_ was what she needed. How could she have been stupid enough to think of isolation in a bar?

"Karen?" the director called out again. Karen finally fully opened her eyes to greet a sight that disappointed her even more.  
Derek Wills looked horrible. Her heart jumped as she took in the sight of his air. The man she came to know to be so powerful was now streaked with glamorously fluorescent lights that blazed three decades worth of wrinkled on top of his usual lightly sanded ones. His hair was more salt-pepper than she had ever seen before, as though the stress made him age beyond discretion. And finally his eyes. His eyes that made her see mostly anger and deceit in him were now ransacked with the violence of pain to the point where they felt... _empty_ to the pit of the iris.

"Derek..." Karen managed to whisper, and her sole sympathetic call out to him, he caught over the deafening music and beyond the dimness that floated over them like a cloak. He even managed a weak smile, loosely gripping a whisky between his fingertips.

"Karen, please, sit," he invited her to join him, and they sat as they did the previous time they met at the bar.

"Derek, you look really... Are you okay?"

"You would know if I lied. And anyway, I don't have enough strength to tell lies now," he said, and the way his voice wavered made shivers bruise her spine. She_ burned_.

They sat with some silence as they absorbed themselves in their thoughts. They didn't even hear the entourage. It disappeared, and they were alone, trapped in the depths of their heads.

Both wanted to cry out for help in desperation. Both heard their cries resonate between the walls of their minds, but they didn't fly out to the other.

They suddenly looked at each other. Two broken souls seeking some closure to their lives. They thought the answers lay on the tongue and lips of the other.

"Derek... does it end? The pain? The hate? Does it last?" Karen took the chance. She wanted to know the truth for once. It was no use bathing innocently in the subterfuge created by those around her.

"I won't sugar-coat it – it doesn't end. People hate because they are jealous, and because they envy others' success. Especially hypocritical assholes that live on the roof of the 'B' in 'Broadway', over mountains of deluded money. Of course Ivy will never let go of the fact that a small-town newbie like you was able to outdo her just by being _yourself_. I wish she would know how to be _just_ Ivy Lynn, one day," Derek explained, shushing Karen once more into her confusion.

"Don't forget that we all still support you. Julia, Tom, Eileen... I will, too. It won't be easy, but God, is it worth it," he chuckled in triumph, no doubt remembering his path onto his pedestal of success.

"It better be. We've all been fighting for something in our lives, and it better be within reach at some point," Karen gave a smile of understanding. A look passed between them, expressing the same thought of _compassion_. So tender, never judging. A most achieved mutual feeling she was glad they had relied on each other for in the past few weeks.

"Trust me, it is. Especially when it's so close," Derek whispered with a gaze directed her way that made her think he was being terribly ambiguous. Though that was the usual with him.

Her heart leaped in her chest. _They're so close_, she couldn't help thinking, and her eyes fluttered close for a moment. A feather covered her cheek, and it took her some time to realize that it was Derek's peck that she felt, followed by a warm, "Goodnight, Miss Cartwright."

Karen sigh, and smiled in defeat. That man was always snaking his way in to rustle her emotions.

* * *

**A/N : **Loved writing this chapter! I hope this was filling. Two chapters in one night. My eyes...

It was probably the hardest one yet, except for "A Broken Chord, And Arpeggio".

Thank you _so much_ for reviewing, it keeps me going!

More drama is coming...


	7. Pamper The Lipstick

CHAPTER 7

The theatre roared with applause.

She stayed a few more seconds, bent over the image of Marilyn behind her.

She smiled, and leaned forward, all worries swimming away.

She wasn't Karen Cartwright anymore, lost in the human being she portrayed, a wonderful woman who simply needed the attention she deserved.

After the flood of audience members dissolved into the streets of Boston and the cast was dismissed, Eileen approached her as she exited the loaded dressing rooms.

"Oh, Karen, you were wonderful as always. Such power in your voice!" the older woman exclaimed, patting the younger star on the shoulder, leading her to Tom, Julia and Derek. "Tomorrow night, we'll be having dinner with a friend of mine and our investor, Randy, at L'Espalier. The gentlemen would be very pleased if you could join us."

"Yes, of course. What time?"

"At eight. But fashionably late, I'd say half past eight to let them see how elegantly you move between through the restaurant. Now, I'll let you eat. I see your friends are eager to take you out."

When Karen turned around, she did perceive Jessica and Bobby grinning exaggeratedly. Karen smiled softly in return, quitting her production crew to join them. They headed for the nearest eatery, and then to the hotel bar hours later where they dispersed once more to join little groups of people.

Karen found herself hoping she could catch a sight of Derek drinking sullenly. Unfortunately, he was no where to be seen. She guessed he must have been charming a young curvy woman into slipping into the cologne-perfumed strength of his arms. With the shaven chin of his, he must have been caressing the soft flesh of her shoulders, biting her tender neck with his teeth, and nibbling her breasts with his lips. And then she wondered why the hell such thoughts ever crossed her mind.

Suddenly feeling very confused, she exited the bar, not bothering to inform of her departure to Jessica of Bobby.

Karen lay in bed the following early hours of morning, pensive as can be, remembering the little details regarding the audience and the stage as she usually did the preceding day of a show. Her hair cloaked her pillow, and her arms curved lazily around her body as she thought of the cards her life was revealing.

She left her little town to join the dynamics of one of the biggest cities in the world. As a teenager, she had been attracted to New York with its shining lights and diversity. Then she learned about Broadway and theatre, which gave a whole new dimension to her otherwise limited ideas of cultural understanding. It gave her dreams and goals, as well as hope, the three values she ever gave importance to.

Love was always in the back of her mind, surfacing every now and then, but never hindering her ambitious path to a lead role on Broadway.

When Karen met Dev as she was serving him coffee, she felt the spark when their eyes met. As though something instantly clashed. He seemed to notice it as well, and kept coming back every morning, and eventually, every evening to find her there, flustered as per usual within the suffocating premises of his presence.

They came around to chatting and later on, talking for hours over the phone. He offered her all his free time, and would listen intently to her little ramblings about her dreams. Then, one night, as she served him his regular, he caught her by the wrist and pulled her towards him, laying a gentle kiss on her lips.

That's how their relationship had started. Afterwards, it was a simple roller-coaster ride: for a time, it was _perfect_; then it came rushing down the river stream, and finally crashing into the bottom of the sea with a loud thump when he ultimately betrayed her by sleeping with her rival.

Karen tried to look at it in the positive way: she would have only one goal in mind – her career. No bother could ever get to her now.

She finally sprung from the bed as a smile glazed her gentle face. Then she hopped into the shower, relishing every moment as she stroked her skin, softly spreading soap over her arms and thighs.

Her thoughts lingered in her head until she had finished breakfast. Then, she headed straight for Armani Exchange to spend a sum of her money. Nothing could begin what looked to be a marvellous day than a little shopping.

When Derek woke up around noon in a lousy state caused by a despicable headache, he couldn't find the strength to open his eyes to their full extent. He caught a sliver of light, and it immediately made him screw up his eyes. He tried to look beside him beyond the blur that gave his eyelids; he noticed no lean figure laying next to him. In sleepy bewilderment, he decided last night's companion must have left his room, and hopefully without grabbing his wallet on the way out.

When Derek was finally able to fight his hangover as he had many times before, he tried quenching his persisting thirst with numerous bottles of water. Once his throat no longer felt crisp dry, he stepped in the shower, dressed, and walked to the nearest bistro to take a coffee.

As Derek looked patiently out the large windows into the active streets of Boston, he pondered upon the incident of a couple of days ago when they had found torn clothes and broken shoes with a whole lot of paint damaging them even more.

He tried to assemble the inevitable pieces of the puzzle that kept his mind at bay of women for a couple of nights already. It was somewhat creative to break a dream in the way some cruel individual broke it for Karen. It was like putting a 'stop' sign on her path to victory before the final steps that showed the doors of a fantasy that was craved for for an eternal period of time.

It must have been a person who held respect for Broadway, Derek thought as he tranquilly drank his coffee. Directly attacking the costumes. It felt to be... a woman's job, almost, for women hold a special appreciation and desire for clothes.

Then it struck him. Hard. Hard enough for the headache to grind his brains against his skull once more.

"Ivy, what a coincidence," Karen declared somewhat disturbed when a familiar blonde came to stand before her as she picked out clothes.

"It wouldn't be enough to say that I followed you here," the other responded.

"Why do I suddenly interest you so much?"

"I just intended to know how you've been after the... incident."

"Again, since when do you care about how I feel?" Karen turned to her, feeling irritation tint her words.

"Since we can't have our star back down for another to take her place, can we? I mean, it's never too late to take the spot or anything. Marilyn would have only wanted the best to step in her shoes." Ivy's gaze was terribly direct, an element that put Karen on edge.

"Ivy, did you do it?" the brunette considered after a few moments.

"For once, Karen, I didn't do it," Ivy clenched her jaw, and walked away stiffly.

Karen stood perplexed until a clerk asked if she needed help.

Karen read on her phone that it was almost half past eight. She smoothed her hair in the mirror, pampered her lipstick, and fixed her mascara. As her cab neared the _L'Espalier_, the young brunette felt an agitated nervousness attain her. It seemed as though the emotion felt jealous of her.

As Karen manoeuvred with all the grace she could muster in her dark crimson gown between restaurant chairs, all the while thinking about keeping her shoulders rolled back and head high, she tried not to miss the table which she would be joining. As soon as she heard her name being called out, any turbulence that shook inside her stopped, and she was finally able to crane her worried smile into one that was finer, letting the blush applied to her cheeks bring out her charmingly delightful shine. Derek pulled out a chair for her, and she took it.

"How nice to have you here, Miss Cartwright," a man she presumed was the friend Eileen had mentioned. She could tell by his apparel that he belonged to the high-ranked people of the city.

"Karen, this is John Castellini, my good friend. He is a businessman. And this is Randy," Eileen presented the men; Karen's hand was kissed twice – once tenderly, and once quite wetly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Once you're ready, Karen, we will order," Derek stated, setting down his menu to smile at her warmly.

Half of the evening passed with engaging conversation encompassing the table. John Castellini turned out to be a very cultivated man who could approach any subject with incredible ease of manner. The words that seemed to flow luxuriously from his mouth were captivating – the way he presented his opinion was an art to itself.

As the conversation deadened while they enjoyed their food and moaned occasionally at its delicious flavours, a waltz awoke from the depth of the piano.

"Miss Cartwright, care to dance?" a voice called out to Karen as she gazed at her folded hands.

"Uh – yes, of course," she responded to Derek, taking his hand, and letting herself be taken to the floor. Circling her waist in an instant within his broad arms, Derek began, "Don't you find Castellini a little over the border?"

"No, I think he's an interesting man, actually."

"His opinion on politics I didn't find really fascinating," Derek protested, diving right into her eyes.

"Men and politics. Let's rather enjoy the dance." They chuckled.

Derek relaxed his grip on Karen, but flipped her hand where it laid gently atop his own, intertwining his fingers with hers. Karen noticed the romantic gesture, and for a few seconds, watched her director with a certain confusion that he caught from the corner of his eye. He would not look at her, she noted, but when he finally averted his eyes to meet hers, he gave her a hearty smile. Her cheeks began to burn, so she quickly looked away, rapidly blinking away the tingle and the blush that crept over her neck. When the waltz ended moments after that, the pair rejoined their seats.

"Where's John?" Karen asked, noticing the businessman's absence at the table.

"He needed to take an urgent phone call from the company."

"It's our turn to go!" Randy exclaimed, pulling Eileen to her feet and onto the floor.

Karen was left with Derek at the table as he looked out to their surrounding scenery. His eyes reflected an owl's curiosity that gave him an air of perturbed intimacy that Karen clearly didn't find suitable.

"We'll be having a new Joe DiMaggio; I don't believe we've told you," he said after a few minutes of silence, putting wine to his lips, and taking a small sip.

"Oh? Who will it be?" Karen asked, cutting her food with an elegant flexibility that enticed Derek. Her movements resembled not the pretentiousness that was engraved in nearly every woman he had ever accompanied to dinner.

"A 'young, handsome man,' they tell me. I say it's your call to decide upon that. But I will confirm one thing – he is very talented." He set the glass aside on the table, and cocked his head to the side as if to watch her.

"I can't wait. When you say someone has talent, they must be terrific."

Derek smiled.

"What are you looking at?" she shook her head.

"The crowd... You..."

"And what do you see?"

"I see quite a few people. Scoot over, I'll tell you all about them," he offered, and Karen took Eileen's seat.

"See that man over there, standing by the woman with the fur? They're big investors, and one of the first to ever jump on a deal. Heavy egotistical couple, if I may," he said as he leaned closer to Karen, lowering his voice for only her to hear, leaving only inches of expensively-perfumed air parting their faces. Her breath trembled, but she liked the intoxicating warmth he radiated. A soft shiver teased her shoulders.

"Over there," Derek resumed, pointing discretely to an elderly man, "is the grumpiest musician you will ever dare to meet. But he is wonderfully devoted to his music, and I did have the chance to work alongside him.

"The woman you see standing on the stairs, I'd be surprised if you knew her," Derek challenged Karen, and she squinted her eyes for a moment as if deep in thought.

"It's Lea Salonga, right?"

"I didn't know you liked 'Les Misérables'," Derek cocked his head again, bringing their faces even closer, and Karen felt her ears gain heat as her eyes couldn't help falling on his lips that arched into a dazzling smile.

"Oh, we're sorry to perturb you," Eileen's voice broke in. "Randy is a tremendous dancer, especially when drunk, but, well, at our age, I suppose you can say that we get tired after a while," she chuckled, and sat back on her seat after Karen obligingly took back hers without tearing her eyes off her director.

John finally rejoined the party. The rest of the dinner passed pleasantly well with a little story-telling about Broadway, and rock concerts, and little towns.

When their energy began to fade out, they put an end to the wonderful dinner. Randy went back to the bottle of whisky that waited for him at home, John drove away to his wife and children, and Eileen had Nick take her on a little journey across the city, leaving Derek and Karen alone again. They mounted into a cab that took them to the hotel, sitting in comfortable silence as the alcohol began to close their lids.

When the cab arrived at the building, the climbed off, and Derek suddenly said, "I think I know who pulled the trick on you."

"What? The one with the costumes?"

"Yes. I think it might have been Ivy." He let her enter the elevator before him.

"I spoke to her today. She said it wasn't her."

"You know how easily she lies," Derek snorted.

"She seemed sincere," Karen admitted.

"She's an actress.

"Who can also say truth." They exited the elevator.

"Tell me... Why are you defending her?" Derek asked curiously.

"Because... Everyone has a good side. I agree that she hasn't been the nicest person to me..." Karen continued as they stopped at her room, "... but it doesn't mean that she could have gone in there and splashed paint all over my shredded costumes."

After a moment, Derek concluded as he departed, "I have faith in you, Miss Cartwright. Sleep well."

* * *

**A/N : **I actually feel that this is a terrible chapter after a terribly long non-update week.

However, I promise that it'll get better starting next week. I'll have more time to upload and ideas will be better.

Enjoy!

Thank you for the wonderful reviews (especially **Gwennie** since I couldn't reply to you. **Lydia**, I'll keep your idea in mind.)


	8. Too Human To Be A Fact Of Nature

CHAPTER 8

They had ended Boston two performances later on the most positive of notes. Reviews kept coming in from various people, appearing on blogs and the news, making their proud smiles and inflated egos even thicker by the number.

Together, they celebrated on the last night at some bar on the edge of the city, drinking to the first week till the sun hovered above the clouds. Later they wondered how the hell the bartender, the only boss, stayed up with them all that time. At noon, they took their flight to Boston, sleeping deeply with some snoring during the three hours.

Still exhausted, the were glad to have one day off before continuing the journey of "Bombshell". Most went to sleep while some went out to lunch. When evening came, fatigue was replaced with faint energy as they finished dinner. Afterwards, sleep called to most again. Some headed to the bar to find company.

* * *

Jessica, Bobby, Dennis, Sam, and Karen entered the bar closest to the hotel where pools of light and clouds of heads swarmed the place. Anyone who entered it seemed to shed their integrity.

The group found another group that was worth a few sexually heated dances. Soon, though, they moved on to find another that pushed the barriers, but somehow Karen felt it was good. Or maybe it was the drinking from last night. Technically, the drinking from today. Right?

She couldn't think straight when some guy put his hands on her hips and pushed against her. Her head leaned on his shoulder as if to graze his neck with her lips. When the song ended, they looked at each other hungrily, but she didn't catch his name.

From afar, she spotted her director looking at her with a smile plastering his face. With a sigh and a roll of the eyes, she joined him.

"Hello, Derek," Karen took the seat beside him.

"I saw you getting all steamy and hot with those fellas," Derek quipped.

"Nice way to greet me. Yes. I thought I would have some fun? Do I detect some jealousy?"

"You should know that I don't ever get jealous. Because I _always _get what I want, _when_ I want it," he answered, with the usual ambiguity that made Karen conclude that he still wasn't under the full influence of alcohol.

"I wouldn't push your luck," she said, and ordered two martinis.

"How did you know what I drank? Get a skill on reading minds?"

"Who said it was for you?" Karen looked him up and down, quietly sipping on her martinis.

"Never thought you would turn selfish," Derek mumbled.

"After a few drinks, I can even get hypocritical," she laughed.

He did too. "You did a terrific job on your first week. Great polishing on the role, day by day."

"Thank you. The book and the songs really related to her, so it was easier to get into character."

"You don't have to give me a reason for your effort."

"For once I can actually say what I think, and I the words get pushed back into my mouth. _How delightful_," Karen chuckled.

"Just pointing it out. Now tell me, Karen... What is love?"

"You told me you understood it."

"Yes, and I wasn't lying. I simply didn't mean the romantic kind."

She rolled her eyes. "Alright. I'll give you a list. When you love someone, you think of them a lot. Almost every thought constantly finds a way to go back to them. You feel... different around them. For example, when I first dated Dev, I would always have moist eyes when he was near, and I wouldn't even be able to look straight at him," Karen said, stopping to reminisce with a shake of the head. "You want to have them around all the time, because they bring a smile to your face. But it also kills you to see them with someone else."

"Hm..." Derek twitched. "What a burden. Thank God I never fell in love."

"You never did?" Karen seemed incredulous.

"Well, I had a thing for this girl once."

"Did you love her?"

He blinked twice. "I don't know. I think she loved me, though. Very much. She used to mumble it every morning. All I ever did was say, 'Me too'. I never actually said the three words. Then she left me for some French idiot. I guess I was kind of sad. That's when I came here, to Broadway."

"I think you were upset, since you dare call the French an 'idiot'. I think that hard heart inside you actually cared for her," Karen smiled warmly.

He downed his drink.

* * *

As the hours passed, they still sat on their stools, getting comfortable sprawled on the counter of the bar, tilting their heads to look the other in the eye to expose honesty and understanding.

"You know what I think? I think that every single person we meet in our life is there to teach us something. One of them eventually teaches us love," Karen said suddenly.

"I've yet to meet them," Derek snorted.

"_Them_? You're saying you might be gay?"

"Why not? I love women, sure – the curves, the attitude. In men I value the intelligence," she slapped him lightly on the shoulder for the remark. "So, who knows..." he trailed off with a mysterious shake of the head and lift of the eyebrows.

"I guess you like... adventure," Karen said, and felt the need to squeal with embarrassment immediately after. It wasn't a subject she was too keen on tackling with her director.

"Who doesn't?" he whispered in her face, the smell of whisky mixed with his cologne choking the breath out of her. She coughed.

"Do you believe in afterlife?" Karen asked after a while.

"Drastic change of subject! No, I don't think I do. I mean, of course, for people, it's easier and far more comforting to think that they'll see their loved ones again, but I've no one to greet in heaven."

Karen digested, then attempted, "Your parents?"

"My mother abandoned me, my two brothers and my father when I was three. I heard she died about twenty years later. I doubt she'd want to see me again. My father never expressed real affection towards me or my brothers. I doubt he'd care to see me at all."

Karen discerned a cringe in the flow of his features. "Oh..." was all she could give.

"I'm guessing you probably feel sorry," Derek looked at her. She gulped.

"I am," she nodded.

"It's sad. Of course it is. But I miss neither. They didn't mark me in any way that would make me miss them. That's why it's so easy for me to forget."

"Did you love them?"

"I can't say I did, no. Well, my father, I admired him deeply for some time, but that's as far as it went, I think."

"In that case, what kind of love is it that you meant that you understood?"

He thought for a moment. "Oh, that. I meant my brothers. I still talk to the both of them. Married, both successful businessmen in London. They've got this incredible bond because their situations are so similar. But I'm quite far away, so it's a little less strong with me. Still, we've got each others' tight little British asses from time to time," he emitted a chuckled which was followed by a sly grin.

Karen smiled broadly. "Wow. What a story."

"It's why I can be terribly cold sometimes," Derek admitted a little sullenly, looking down into the empty confinement of his clear glass. "You know, Karen, it's going to kill me to say this, but once the world comes crashing down me... I want _you_ to know who I am," he said with incredible sincerity that he prolonged with his direct gaze. For a few instants, it seemed... _searching_. Then a strange relief resuscitated its strength. A small smile erected on her lips as she nodded lightly. He returned the gesture.

"I'd be glad if you were behind me to catch me when I fall," she murmured with a voice that crisped under her heavy drunken stupor. Still, it did not melt away the tender honesty.

Derek straightened his hand for Karen to take. She lingered her look on it, then shook it, returning her eyes to vow with his. A promise of eternity brushed both their looks, softening away the bar, the crowd, the drinks, and the useless little chatter of sex that hovered about them between short skirts and masculine fragrance.

The sole thing that was left was their gentle solace, their clasped hands, and the honour of the loyal confidence that they found in the other's soul.

After they dropped their hands, still the real world did not fade in. They were in a vortex of strong emotions that did not subside as it all went down the hole. On the contrary, it kept multiplying – hearts beat faster, eyes grew wider, stomachs felt sicker.

Then, the cruel reality to the dream, the heavy grace of the heartache, the torment of a beautiful moment, "I'd better go before I do anything foolish."

He said it with tremendous remorse seeping through his teeth, trickling down his tongue like poison with a burning that couldn't compare to that which nestled in his constricting heart. He didn't want to leave, but he knew he needed to. It was infallible. He could not do otherwise without sending himself straight into the pit of hell. And then he wondered if he did actually believe in God, because such torture seemed too human to him to simply be a fact of nature. Maybe God was in fact walking down a street on some abandoned road, laughing cruelly into his white beard while he made him want something he could clearly never touch the depth of. On top of that, he made him think that he was at arm's reach, that he was close. It was a horrible kind of torture, crushing his lungs as though he were inhaling smoke, tearing his heart as though it was a sheet of paper.

Derek vanished into the night of a new city, meaning – _hoping_ – to lose himself in a dark street where some gang would beat the guts out of him. Like that he would never find the courage to approach her ever again.

* * *

**A/N : **Quite a short chapter. Will upload a new one tonight/tomorrow!


	9. Tormenting Thoughts Will Knock Tomorrow

CHAPTER 9

Derek could still feel the moment Karen's intoxicating breath had dived down the depth of his now sore throat and into his now curling stomach before she had climbed off his now suffering knees, and into the now rainy night. At the time he had been intrigued by her capacity to face his wits. He would play, and she would play back with as much excited spirit. Now, the mere thought of her built an ache within places he never thought could feel emotion. And the ache became more unbearable by the day.

As he aimlessly advanced further into the rainy night in the very early hours of morning, an agony coursed through every inch of his every organ as he pondered about what he felt.

He looked around, spotting two figures jogging away from the torrent on opposite sides of the street he walked. He tried to guess whether or not they thought about someone as they did such mundane an action, whether or not they knew the rain poured because they weren't with that someone, whether or not they were loved back by that person. The two figures looked so normal, so dully carved like two tears into the grey canvas of the night, that he thought it was impossible that they could ever feel the way he did. Such turbulence threatened to unleash in him, spin him until he fell face first onto the road, that they seemed to never have touched love. Maybe God was playing tricks on him again, smoking weed in the back of a truck with women caressing his hairy chest. The old man must have been laughing at him.

Derek shook his head. Love was a sickness to which he could never again find the cure.

He "had a thing for a girl once", as he called it. He had seen her one day, casually sauntering on the streets of London, and somehow he had noticed that she stood out with her dry blonde hair, her stark smile, chipped lips, earnest eyes, and young face, that he couldn't retain the wolfish grin he threw her way when she suddenly looked at him. As soon as he was out of her sight, he had turned around, and followed her to the other end of the city where she had sat facing the river, and he had followed suit. From then on, he didn't remember how the whole story rolled out, but he knew it was diamonds that trickled down on a silk carpet. They had a marvellous affair which ended after she found as eager a young man as she. She let Derek go, Kathy did, but it didn't hurt as much as he hoped it would. After that, women and love didn't seem as important to him. Hell, many men die alone. He guessed his independence and pride meant higher mountains for him to crawl to the peak of. Once he could do that and look down at the world, maybe, just maybe, he would let himself fall and have someone catch him at the end of the long descent that he imagined would be full of dreams and lights and glimmer.

Apparently, he was on it now, falling at five hundred miles an hour, though it was a long way down. And still arms did not await his arrival. He would have to touch the ground with a loud thud and break his bones, returning to the lonesome world that he had to face at the beginning of the journey. Then he would bring his weak legs back to the peak, soothing his loneliness with occasional heavy drinking, and countless women along the way.

"Excuse me?" Derek heard a whisper. It woke him from the nightmare, albeit the decor did not fully fade away.

"Excuse me?" Derek heard again, and stopped when footsteps came behind him.

"Uh, you lost your wallet."

He turned around. Took the wallet. Didn't bother to give an audible enough 'Thank you'. Routine enveloped him again.

He let his eyes travel the horizon. The sun was exhibiting more of its rays, and little coffee shops revealed people arranging the tables. He faintly wondered what time it was before his steps retired to the hotel. There he settled on the bed, though unable to catch any sleep.

When his alarm unpleasantly squealed at 9AM, he blinked, still awake, and headed to the theatre after a cold shower.

* * *

_What did he mean by 'foolish'?_

Karen stayed on her seat after Derek departed. She felt the impulse to chase him before he had the chance to vanish between skyscrapers, yet something held her down. She needed the answers to so many questions, but after getting a newer glimpse into his soul, she was sure that he was not the one to provide them.

Several moments passed before she finally paid the bartender and left for the hotel.  
As she traversed the streets with familiar confusion, Karen pushed through the crowds of drunk stupors. They smiled at her with a vengeance she couldn't repulse. She noticed that she was already weak on her feet from the Whisky when the world began to float away, so she interpreted their vengeance as some sort of last wish for her to realize what she was dealing with, accompanied with a 'We told you so'. She was definitely drunk.

When Karen stumbled onto her bed, its stiff coldness absorbed any warmth she thought she had left. Her lids dropped almost instantly, and in her dress, with her makeup smearing the sheets, she dozed off. The last thought that came to her was that she would be late for rehearsal.

* * *

The following morning, Karen was surprised that her alarm beep, and even more so that she didn't have more than a headache from her last binge with alcohol.

After cleaning up, she headed to rehearsal with music streaming in her ears.

_During the day, if anything brings back your demons, they will only torment you until the day is over and you go to sleep. The next day, they don't bother you as much. It's like nothing happened_, she thought upon opening the plain doors of their new reception building. Karen prayed silently that their success would continue once the audience would melt into the burgundy seats, and cheer them on.

Jessica was at her feet the moment Karen stepped into the dressing rooms, popping questions about where she had left last night, why she hadn't bothered informing them, and whether or not she had met a cute guy who was worth a silent escapade. Karen, denying any of it with remnants of lack of sleep seeping through her voice, dressed for rehearsal.

Linda poked her head in the door. "We'll be delaying for half an hour. Derek didn't come in yet."

The news surprised most of the crew. The director felt his excellence so tangible that he was always early. When Linda had retreated to her business, Bobby shot up.

"I overheard Julia and Eileen talking. Apparently the Dark Lord has pancreatic cancer."

Half of the room gasped, while the other stayed shut.

"Are you kidding?"

"Never."

"Wow. And I thought he was invincible."  
"Is it terminal?"

"Where is he now?"

"Are you serious?"

"Look, guys, I don't know. And I'd prefer you didn't start gossiping about it. Wouldn't want to get fired because I mentioned his cancer."

The ensemble and Karen complied with hints of compassion as they retreated to their costumes. The previous energy that emancipated the room soon disintegrated, replaced by a slowness marked in the occupants' movements while putting on make-up, and correcting their hair. A blink or two couldn't restore the minimal noise warranted to suppress awkwardness, so Bobby took the lead again.

"I'm sure it's nothing. And it actually made me realize that... even though we don't love him that much... seeing him go for long enough would totally make us miss him. A lot. Even though we'd probably never admit it." His words were enough to disinfect the room of its troubled mood. A few chuckles shed its tension. And soon enough, their director was back in the game with somewhat of a smile spread across his unshaven face. Each let go of a breath they didn't know they held insecurely.

* * *

Later that day, when the sun began to clutch the sheets of the horizon, the crew was released until their night performance. As per usual, most went to lunch in small groups while others prepared for solitary relaxing baths.

Karen longed for one. Instead, she knew she had an influence to make, a spell to cast. She exited the building into the fresh four o'clock air. A light breeze danced around her fingers and hair, trailing along her bare back. Soon enough, she spotted her director, sitting very still before his stage that was the park that began to fill with healthy runners.

"Is it true?" Karen asked as she sat next to him on the bench.

Derek looked at her, confused, as she had expected.

"I heard you have cancer," she tried, unwilling to rage him.  
Derek sigh and gulped, knowing a lie would be ages too late. "Yes. How the hell did you hear?"

Mumbling that she had learned it from someone, he snorted and guessed the correct person. After an instant's disturbing hesitance, she continued."Have you taken a treatment?"

He breathed again, cautiously choosing his words, debating whether or not he could release any sort of information. "I had stage three pancreatic cancer four years ago. They removed it with surgery. It was the size of a walnut. Then they told me that it would probably grow back. They were right. I had to take chemotherapy to get rid of small amounts of the cancer the whole thing back. It was so difficult that I couldn't keep doing it. I felt sick two days straight after taking the drugs. After a while, I realized that if I continued it, then I'd lose my life. I wouldn't be able to observe people and figure out their little ways. I wouldn't be able to live like a proper human being, and living's all we've got," Derek said, rarely meeting her eye. Then he stared off into the distance. "In the end, we all vanish six feet under the earth. It's just a matter of time before we catch our last breath. And I've done everything I could to enhance this wonderfully ignorant collective life we're all leading. Someone else is going to have to take my spot."

After a while of thoughtful silence, she said, "I care about you."

He thought it through, as though the words were somewhat sacred and tough to digest. "At one point, you're going to have to stop caring. Because if you don't, when I die, it's going to hurt. And the last thing I want is for anyone to get hurt."

"Then continue the chemotherapy. One day, it will be over. I'm not the only one who cares."

"I can't. That would be cheating death, and I'm done playing her games."

Karen mused again, registering his words for a later conversation. "I forgive you."

Derek paused. "That's actually very selfish to say, not to mention completely out of context and useless."

"I know. But I had to say it to feel better. Don't you want to be better? Don't you want to be strong enough to make it go away? You're not actually going to let yourself die, and let us mourn in tears."

Karen gazed into Derek's eyes, relishing the serenity they had established between them as they spoke. She hoped that the glimmer in his eye indicated the reconsideration of his opinion. In a flow of movement, she got up to leave, feeling satisfied to have him hanging on her words, but he caught her wrist at the last moment.

"Someone always ends up in pain. I chose the egotistical way out – to soothe my own misery." He let go of her. Karen gazed at him again, searching for some kind of dishonesty to his words. When she didn't find any, her lips parted slightly, and she dropped her eyes, admitting defeat. Her feet drove her away.

Long after she had vacated her spot, Derek still kept a stoic figure. He thought he could still feel her heat warm his cold heart from the emptiness she left. Finally, he let himself close his eyes, but not in shame.

Derek could accept Karen's naivety, how it blended between the thick lines of her eyeliner, the childish puffiness of her cheeks, and the way it somehow blurred into the elegance of a woman's intricate innuendos. He could let himself look into her eyes to retrieve traces of spontaneous fun and simple love, something he was used to, yet didn't wish to obtain. But, that night, her fighting and digging her little nails into his heart to try and dispel his firmly set mind was something he could hardly gulp down, even with a full glass of Whisky.

* * *

After yet another terrific performance brought by their cast that never crushed the thrill of the audience's resounding clapping, Derek wandered in town, again. As per usual, he entered a bar, this time dimly lit, apparently unattractive to any passing work-inflicted, sullen bastards. He was glad for the latter fact. If anyone even dared glance his way, he would have to set their jaw way out of place.

He got around to thinking about his situation, ordering Scotch to ease his mind, breathing heavily after each glass to prevent his eyelids from dropping. Two women had come to seek his company, and having felt ever the gentleman trait grip him, he decided not to throw his fist in their Barbie doll faces; a snide comment accompanied with a twisted smirk worked sufficiently.

Afterwards, the image of a young woman with soft brown eyes and full pink lips spreading on pampered rosy cheeks slid into his mind without him noticing. He almost believed her figure was the object of one of his previous hallucinations. What made it different from the latter, though, was the lack of the purple dress, and the puffy blonde hair. The naivety and thick eyeliner were still very much integrated in her persona. The brunette dressed herself before him, round hips and slender legs deliciously tempting, before bending down for a kiss on the nose. He nearly closed his eyes. Then he realized she would probably disappear if he did. His lips parted, almost in a jealous manner. At that train of thought, his eyes shot open from their sway of drunken stupor.

Comprehension swept him away as though he were in turbulent sea. He _was_ jealous, but not of her. No, he was jealous of what was inside her, inside her mind, and of what she saw with her pretty eyes. The way she viewed the world as a sacred place where ambition grew like apples on tall trees, where all people had a good side which she could bring out, where collective tears wouldn't be of much greater dimension than lake Michigan. And then he wondered if his life would become any simpler if he were to truly _believe_ in something, anything, the way she believed in whatever she came into contact with. Then he wondered if he was shedding too much of her remorse and fear in order to bring out the annoying naivety. He truly hated the world, and he decided he had attributed it too many times to her. Maybe, he wondered, he mistook the naivety for compassion. Perhaps the latter sounded a little more egotistical, (or perhaps the former did, depending on your religion,) thus shortening the arm's length he tried to keep her at.

Derek payed the bartender, feeling a lot lighter with the realization now clear in his mind. He could piece the missing corner of the puzzle starting from there.

If he was jealous of her, then he would most definitely keep her close, but not too. However, replaying them, their conversations at the bars seemed to prove that he had actually embraced her tender feelings and understanding smiles instead of keeping her at bay. He tried to push those thoughts away, jerking his head from side to side, and passing gentlemen seemed displeased with his behaviour. Blaming his disclosure of his past on the booze seemed not too bad an idea; certainly greedy to accuse something that was never at fault, but he figured it easier to apologize to inanimate objects than take the blame on himself.

Derek thought about how he had opened up to Karen about his childhood. That part of the past was a memory he was not too keen on revisiting, and recounting the beginning of his tale seemed to be easier to a stranger than to someone he knew. Maybe the clueless bastard would actually be too scared to judge.

He thought about how he felt some sort of enchantment overpower him when he was around her. Then he thought about his random, strange urges to stroke his lips with hers under the moonlight's hidden eye whenever she grinned. It all felt strange to him.

Derek felt the need to collapse on the corner of the street to close his eyes and dream. He called a cab, and climbed into the stinking car that brought him to the hotel where he jumped under the covers of the bed, falling asleep instantly.

Tormenting thoughts would need to knock on his door later.

* * *

**A/N :** I will never apologize enough for the horribly long update. I had a few emotional issues as well as a writer's block. I really lost track as to where the story was headed, and I understand this chapter is very much descriptive with not much action going on. That will change.

I won't promise anything, because I hate being disappointed and disappointing people. I will simply do my best to figure out this story, and make my updates come sooner.


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